by Erin Zak
I glance up after feeling her wetness. She’s biting her lower lip, and I feel another jolt zip through me. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous.” My voice sounds unfamiliar, as if I’ve never been filled with this much desire or passion before. Her eyebrow quirks, but I don’t wait for any further response as I press into her, bow my head, and prepare to make her body my altar. “I’m going to worship you until you beg me to stop.”
“Bring it on,” she whispers, low, throaty, and I smile into the soft skin of her left breast.
I nip and lick until I get to her pink nipple. I pull it into my mouth, flick it, bite, until it’s erect, and she’s softly moaning. I move to her other breast and stroke the skin on the side and press my thigh into her center. She’s starting to grind against me, and the movements she’s making are affecting me, as well. I place a hand on the inside of her knees and push her legs apart, being gentle but filled with need.
After I kneel, I put my hands behind her knees, pull her forward, and she takes a deep breath. I glance up. She’s watching my every move. She drags her fingertips down my cheek and along my jaw. The gesture is so small, but my heart feels as if it might explode from the emotion. I nod, a very small movement, and she gives me a smile that has me thankful I’m on my knees.
Neither of us can understand why we’re so comfortable with each other or why kissing each other feels as if we’ve stumbled upon perfection, or why a simple touch can send us both into a wondrous tailspin. But as I lean into her and place my mouth on her warm, wet sex, I finally understand. We were meant to find each other. We were meant to help each other heal. We were meant to be the other women and to be drawn to each other’s auras. This was fate. All of it.
I slip my tongue inside her. I feel her hands in my hair as I replace my tongue with a finger. Her moan and then her soft, “More, please,” makes me want to squeal in delight. I do as she instructs, pushing two fingers inside her wetness. Her clit is easy to find even in the dim lighting, so I flick it softly with my tongue. She responds with a sharp intake of air. I do it again and again and again until she’s not really allowing me to back away.
“Don’t stop.” Her voice is strained. “God, please don’t stop.”
I pull her clit into my mouth, flick it fast and hard, then slow and gentle, all the while thrusting into her with two fingers. She puts her right leg over my shoulder. Her heel is digging into my back, right below my shoulder blade. The sensation is exhilarating. I have her exactly where I want her.
Her muscles are starting to contract around me with every thrust. I continue to flick her clit until she freezes and then moans my name, and her entire body is shaking. She pulls on my head as she shakes, so I stand, her leg still over my shoulder. I press forward, brace my hand on the chair between the arm and her body on the cushion. I keep thrusting gently as she lifts her head and kisses me. “Don’t stop fucking me,” she whispers against my lips. Her using that word she hates so much makes me want to marry her, let alone never ever stop fucking her.
She bends her other leg as I thrust. She stops kissing me, bites my lip, then lets go as she leans her head back, exposing her neck, and starts to come again. I pause only when she puts her hand on mine, stopping me. Another shudder rakes through her, and her muscles clench around me again. I am so amazed by her body, the way it is responding to me. I say a silent prayer this isn’t normal for her, and it’s only due to the connection we have.
“Don’t move,” she says, breathless and panting. “Just. Stay.” I’m in an awkward position, but I do what she says. Her hand is still on mine. When she says, “Pull out with me,” I swear to God, I almost pass out.
“Okay.” I whisper, but it sounds so loud in the quiet room. When she pulls my fingers from her, my entire hand is soaked. “You’re so fucking hot,” I say before I lean down and kiss her. “So hot.”
“That has never happened before.” She covers her face. “I don’t even know what you just did to me.” She laughs, then she lets out a noise that is close to a sob but much softer in volume.
“Hey, are you okay?”
She keeps her hands over her face as she shakes her head.
“Cecily.” I slide in next to her on the chair. It seems silly to jam ourselves into this chair when there’s a perfectly good bed steps away, but she’s having a moment. A huge moment. And my body and heart are aching to help her. “Talk to me. Please.”
“What are we going to do?” She takes a breath, and it shakes from crying. She finally moves her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Cecily.” I say her name again. I love how beautiful it is, how it rolls off my tongue, how easily it’s become a part of my vocabulary, but also, I want her to look at me and to know I am serious. She props herself up so we’re sitting almost eye to eye. She’s still scooted farther down than me, but my back feels much better now. “We will figure it out. I have no doubt.”
“Yeah, but you’re not going to move to Chicago.”
“Chicago?” I smile. “That’s where you’re from?”
She laughs. “How have we done all this”—she motions around the room and to our naked bodies—“but you have no idea where I’m from?”
I shrug. The irony that Willow moved here from Chicago is not lost on me. “Maybe I would move there.”
She tilts her head, her lips twisting. “It gets cold there. Like, brutal cold.”
“I can handle the cold.”
“I assure you, you can’t.” She shakes her head and lets out a small shaky laugh that is layered with emotion. “I’m being serious, though.”
The breath she takes causes her breasts to move with the rise and fall. I run a finger lightly down her sternum, to her navel, and back up again. Goose bumps appear on her skin, and her nipples harden again. I don’t know why, but I find watching a woman’s nipples harden so erotic. We’re in the middle of a real conversation, so I show some restraint. “I know you’re serious. I’m serious, too. About you. Which is…alarming.” I smile. “To say the least.”
“I didn’t plan on feeling this way again.” Her eyes are still damp, but I can see them start to fill anew with tears.
“I know.”
“Especially about you.”
“Does it make you feel any better if I told you I didn’t plan on this, either?”
She laughs a breathy chuckle as she rubs the wetness from under her eyes. “No, it doesn’t make me feel any better.”
I find myself laughing along with her. I bend my head and place a kiss on her forehead. “I also didn’t plan on loving you. Yet…” My words are muffled as they brush her soft skin.
“Here we are.”
I pull away and gently touch her cheek. “For some reason, I feel like we’re going to figure this out.”
“How?” She pushes out a ragged, tearstained breath. “How do you have that much faith in us? In me?”
I shrug. “Isn’t that exactly what faith is? Knowing it? Feeling it? And not being able to describe it?” She nods, then pulls my face down to hers. She kisses me. I taste the salt from her tears. I’ve made women cry during sex. I’m not unused to dealing with those emotions. But these emotions? This is entirely different. For the first time, maybe ever, I trust this. Even more than I did with Willow. Way more than I did with anyone.
“Take me to bed, please,” she says into our gentle kisses. “Please.”
I smile against her lips. “You already said please.”
“Well.” She smiles, her eyes sparkling. “I’m polite.” Her tone is playful, and I love it.
My heart is so full. She remembered our first night at the bar. We move to the bed, and after we climb under the blanket, I wrap my arms around her as she rests her head on my chest and lays a leg over mine. I kiss the top of her head and breathe in the scent of her, and realization slams into me. She will be leaving, and I am in love with her. I close my eyes tight, trying to squeeze my own tears into submission. We are both so screwed.
Chapter Fourteen
/> Cecily
I wake up super early. I guess the time change from Chicago to Vegas is finally bothering me. I really haven’t had a problem until now since I’ve been up way too late almost every single night. Except last night…which was…amazing.
I spend the better part of an hour lying in bed on my side, the comforter pulled up around me, observing Francesca as she sleeps, her mouth open the tiniest bit. She makes me smile. She looks peaceful, and I understand why, but the ease with which this has all happened is still resonating with me. Will I ever stop being blown over by her, by us? A fun night with a Las Vegas bartender has turned into so much more than I ever imagined.
I didn’t want it. Or need it.
Well, maybe I did need it.
Whatever broke inside me when Willow left was not repaired by seeing her again. And the same seems to be true for her. She needed more than I could give her. I thought it was enough. She told me it was enough. In the end, my inability to take a leap of faith with her and crush the man I’ve spent most of my life with really wasn’t enough. And as upsetting as the end of our relationship is, I’m realizing now the end didn’t happen in Vegas. The end happened the night before she left for her new life.
I’ll never forget how she told me.
I knew nothing about it until she said, “I’m leaving tomorrow. For Vegas.”
We were sitting in the middle of Girl and the Goat, one of my very favorite places in the entire city. She knew it was my favorite. And she also knew it would be crowded. And it was packed to the brim. We had to request reservations almost six months before we wanted to go. The evening out was supposed to be an anniversary, celebrating the first time we kissed four years earlier.
“Another client?” Her consulting job had finished with my company a year earlier, but she’d stayed on staff to assist with other clients. Jeff had said it was that she loved working there so much, but I knew it was me who’d kept her there. “A company or a casino?” I asked around a small mouthful of warm, marinated olive. I always let her order for me. I don’t know why. I actually hated being that woman.
“No.”
“Oh?”
She didn’t look up. She wasn’t looking at me at all. She was staring at something on the table.
“Willow?”
All of a sudden, she straightened her back and brought her gaze up. She pulled her shoulders back. “For a new job.”
“Well, yeah, of course. I mean, why else?”
“No, Cecily.” Her tone was firm. “I’m taking a new job in Vegas for the Heights Casino. Vice president of marketing.”
“Wait.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Wait—”
“I’m not coming back.”
“Willow—”
“They’re putting me up in a new condo just off the Strip.”
“I’m so confused—”
“Are you, though?”
“Yes, I am!” I raised my voice, and the couple at the table looked over in dismay. “If you’d stop cutting me off and let me ask a goddamn question,” I said as quietly as possible.
She took a deep breath. “Ask away.”
I paused for what felt like ages. I didn’t know what to ask even though my outburst made it seem as if I had a laundry list of questions. The only one that came to mind was “How long have you known about this?”
“Two months.”
“Two months?”
“Yes, Two months.”
“You knew about this for two months, and you’re just now telling me. On our anniversary dinner.”
She huffed and looked away, shaking her head. “Our anniversary,” she said under her breath. She laughed, seemingly to herself. I sure as heck didn’t find anything funny.
“Willow, answer me, please.”
She picked up her glass of wine and drank two generous gulps, leaving it empty as she set it on the table. “You will be fine. We can still talk on the phone. Skype. Or FaceTime. Whatever.”
“Wait a second here.” I leaned forward, ready to eviscerate her, but her body language prompted me to pull back. “You come into my life and turn everything upside down, tell me you love me, tell me you can’t live without me, then you just up and leave? And expect phone calls and video chats to be enough?”
She huffed again. “Hmph.”
“What?”
“So I’m expecting you to be okay with only a fraction of me. How dare me.”
Oh. Oh. That one stung. “Wow.”
She must have seen she’d struck a nerve. There was an immediate change in her demeanor. “Cecily, I’m not saying…” She paused and leaned forward. Everything about her changed. “I love you. You hear me?”
I nodded.
“You are the only woman I want in my life. I only want you.”
I nodded. And I believed her.
“I need to do this. For me. For my career.” She reached across the table and took my hand. “I love you so much, Cecily. So very much.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I am not going anywhere.”
Seeing her cry always made me cry. I reached up with my free hand and wiped at my eyes. “Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
The memory is hard to handle as I lie in bed next to Francesca, a woman who I’m once again afraid to not have in my life on a daily basis. The idea of long distance nauseates me.
Cecily, you aren’t even divorced yet. I roll my eyes. Settle down and enjoy what you’ve found with her.
I slide out of bed and tiptoe to the bathroom. Every muscle in my body is sore. Muscles I sort of forgot existed are aching. I had no idea some of those muscles were even used last night.
My mind flashes back to Francesca’s fingers inside me, my leg up over her shoulder, and it makes sense why my glutes are hurting. I chuckle as I turn the shower on and wait for it to warm up. Another flashback floods into my mind of Francesca fingering me from behind…how she pulled me to my knees and had me coming so hard I almost collapsed. And then I see me on my stomach, my face buried in her, sucking on her clit, her hands in my hair, her moaning my name. I see her riding my face. I feel her hands on me, her fingers inside me, my fingers inside her as we came together, not once, but twice. God…I haven’t had an all-nighter filled with orgasm after orgasm in my entire life. Francesca really knows my body. She surprised me with her abilities. I had an idea she’d be good, but I had no idea she was going to be that good.
My face is flushed; the heat from the memories has made me sweat. I pat at my forehead and laugh softly again before stepping into the massive stall. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to showering in the mediocre shower at my house.
I don’t know how I’m going to go back to anything at my house. To my big, empty bed. To my job. To Luke.
He has never deserved any of this. He is a wonderful person with a good heart. I do love him, and I am sure I always will. He was my first for so many things. Holding hands, kissing, oral sex, actual sex…but also the first person to hold me while I cried. The first person I wanted to have a child with. The first person who only continued with the baby mission because he knew how much I wanted one.
I step under the water so I can get my face and hair wet. It feels amazing on my skin. I quickly wash my face. I removed some of my makeup last night, but I will look like a raccoon if I don’t get the eyeliner off soon. I turn and am startled to see Francesca standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the doorjamb.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.”
“It’s really okay.” I stand with the water pouring over me. “You joining me?”
“I can.” She smiles.
“You will,” I say, and she moves toward the shower without hesitation. She opens the door and steps in. Her body is flawless. I saw it last night. Don’t get me wrong. But looking at it in the light of the shower leaves me speechless. She looks like an Olympian. Her abs, her thigh muscles, Jesus, her arms…I am more self-conscious now than I was last night
with her head buried between my legs.
She places her hands on my hips. I don’t know if she’s reading my mind or what, but she smiles and says, “You are so sexy.” She runs her wet hands over my hips then back behind me. She pulls me toward her, and in an instant, we are kissing, slowly at first, but the speed at which the intensity increases is almost shocking. Before I know it, she’s backing me up against the wall. The tiles are cold, and the sensation on my warm skin has me gasping into her mouth. She slips her hand between my legs, and I’m already aroused. She so very gently pushes two fingers inside me. She must know I’m sore. She doesn’t thrust at first, just fills me. Her inside me feels so amazing. She pulls out slowly, then pushes back in.
I break from her kiss and lean my head back and push my body from the wall, closer and tighter to her. I pick my left leg up and prop it on the ledge of the shower. She wraps her arm behind me and starts to thrust. With each pass, she’s hitting a spot inside me, and I have never felt so amazing. “Francesca,” I whisper, and she bites one of my nipples. I gasp again, but she continues to thrust. She’s gentle and handles me with care, as if I’m a piece of valuable artwork and she’s afraid to break me. I know she’s fearful of me breaking her, so even the idea that she is worried about me has me feeling an immeasurable amount of love for her. God, I can’t love her. I can’t be in love with her…can I? She pulls out and starts to rub my clit. I am on the verge of coming. How she gets me to this precipice so quickly, I’ll never know.
“Come for me,” she whispers as she kisses my neck. She bites lightly, but it sends a jolt through my body, and within seconds, I am unraveling. She slides her fingers back inside me, and I am moaning her name so loudly. Everything about sex in a shower sounds amazing, but her name out of my mouth in that tone is almost enough to make me come again. Her name feels like a prayer sounds, and I know right then and there I could pray to her every single day of my life if she would let me.
“Jesus,” I whisper as I start to come down. She’s still holding me up. Her strength is staggering. “What the heck do you do to me?” I’m breathless.
